Just Enough
by snapmagic
Summary: I love when you tell me not to speak. Harry/Draco. Slash. Hard R.


_A/N: DracoxHarry. Rated R for a reason; NSFW + all. But you already knew that._

_- -_

**I. **

The blindfold was twisted around Draco's left hand, clamped tight on the brunette's bare, sweaty knee. He was pushing, down and outwards; lean fingers slowly slithering up one slim thigh. The body and boy attached to the thigh were trapped in the straight-backed chair, immobilized not only by physical force, but by the sheer heat radiating from the blonde boy pressing upon him. Draco leaned in, tongue roughly sliding against Harry's, not-so-gently tearing back so his glinting white incisors could pull at Harry's lower lip, who was resisting the needy breaths that were tight against his throat. He felt as if every nerve in his body was alert, fiery. Harry ducked his head to the left and pulled his lips away, just for two strained syllables.

"Safe word?"

The last thing he saw before Draco placed the blindfold over his eyes was a mischievous, gleaming smile in the candlelight, and he didn't know if he was terrified or eager (or both at once) as he was plunged into darkness.

"Right. _Safe word._"

The mocking in his tone sent blood rushing to Harry's cheeks. To his groin.

Draco leaned in again, biting along the jaw, while his pale thumb of his left hand was making small circles just underneath the waistband of Harry's boxers. Harry hated himself for shivering at the delicate sensation, and bit down savagely at his lower lip to keep from making noise, feeling Draco smirk against his collarbone. The breath on his neck was hot; open-mouthed kisses being scattered like careless leaves across the pale skin there. Just one- And then another, then another, then another.

_This is not happening, _he thought, Draco's thumb sliding lower, caressing his hipbone, and downwards, downwards. This was not-

Without warning, the boxers were yanked down around his knees.

Enveloped by cold air, he let out a low groan.

"Dra-"

"Shut up," the blonde hissed, tangling his fingers tightly in his hair in an attempt to silence him as he pulled his tongue slowly down Harry's chest, gently gliding over one nipple-

"I-"

"Shut up. And do as I say. You agreed, didn't you?_" _

His tongue slipped over across the other, and Harry let out the slightest of whimpers.

"But what if someone walks in? You're not even supposed to be-"

"Shut _up!"_

He wasn't expecting the slap. Draco's open palm collided sharply with his left cheek. He gasped again, both from the force of the impact, and from the breath that was tickling his ear a moment later. "Don't speak. Don't say another fucking word."

He didn't plan to.

But whether or not he had didn't matter, for a moment later, Draco's tongue was pressing against his lips, shoving inside and running roughly along his own. Harry felt himself grow harder at the pent-up, unfurling aggression in the thin boy, whom Harry knew was wearing his trademark sinister smirk. He was now kneeling in Harry's lap, pinning him there. Teeth collided with tongues, with lips, and the kiss deepened. Draco pulled away for a fraction of a second, yanking his shirt over his head and roughly discarding it onto the wooden dormitory floor.

"And you'll do _anything_ I say, won't you?" Draco panted with malice against Harry's ear. "If I told you to jump, you'd say 'how high?' If I told you to let me fuck you, you'd do it. You've let me blindfold you, I see. Let's see what else we can get out of you." He slid from Harry's lap onto the floor before him.

His hands ran over Harry's chest, and down the plane of his stomach. One pushed against his ribs, forcing him back, as the other wrapped around his cock, one thumb lingering agonizingly over the tip. Harry's hips bucked upward, and Draco pushed him down once more, laughter dripping off his lips as he brought them around the tip of his erection.

Harry nearly screamed. Biting down savagely on the inside of his cheek, the sensation created by such a simple act seemed to pulse through every inch of his body; tremors were sliding down his back, pure heat was searing through his stomach. Draco rolled his tongue in circles, teasing Harry's member, inch by inch.

Satisfied with himself, Draco's eyes were slit with the devious knowledge of the disarray running through Harry's mind. The brunette's fists were clamped onto the arms of the chair, and his ankles had wrapped around the legs. It was as if he had trapped himself there; as if the force had come from within his own self, not Draco. His knuckles were white, and the veins in his forearms strained. His lips formed a thin, trembling line that occasionally split open with a groan or a sigh.

Feeling particularly mischievous, Draco moved his attention elsewhere, knowing full well what the reaction would be. He bestowed loose and languid kisses on the inside of Harry's thighs, the lowest regions of his stomach. The agony was instantly visible. Harry's whole body tensed, begging for more. _Even without words, I can make him beg._ This hierarchy, the roles they each took: these were the way they two were; how things were done. It wasn't sick or strange, not for things to be in order. And this was their form of order, albeit an unconventional one, and that was that.

Harry let out a low whine, and Draco felt a chill run through his entire body at the sound. Suddenly craving, _needing _to hear it again, he pressed his teeth into one of Harry's legs, so viciously it almost broke the skin. _Something to remember me by. _The noise emanating from Harry's lips lasted longer this time, shooting through the air like an arrow leaving behind a trail; fizzing and cracking but eventually lingering in the air, hanging there, staining both of them with desperation.

He didn't speak because he didn't have to. The slow jerk of his body as Draco took him in his mouth once more, the groans which shaped more perfectly than any word, any phrase could: these were the only things he had to give. Just the sway and the tightness, the pulling and taking, the sublimation, the need.

Knowing that Harry was close, hearing his breath now coming in short bursts, Draco's hands found his body again. Fingers were pushing and smearing against hipbones, ribs, in a series of gestures so sudden and so strangely intimate that Harry felt the corners of his consciousness melting into oblivion. As the blonde slid his thumbs down the center of his torso, it was as if a grenade had gone off inside his stomach, scattering ash into his lungs and throat, and he felt himself going over the edge; falling into white nothingness.

Harry came with a low cry; a sound which inadvertently sounded like _Draco. _He prayed with all his might that the blonde boy would not notice.

"I thought I told you not to talk," Draco muttered, ripping off the blindfold, "Potter."

Harry blinked up at him, and before he could think twice, the words were out of his mouth and hanging embarrassingly in the air between them.

"You never use my first name."

To his surprise, Draco flinched. "Excuse me?"

"You never call me Harry."

"I-" For one brief moment, he looked as though he were considering an actual answer, but a moment later, something in face changed, closed off. "When will you learn to shut up?"

Harry just looked away and did as he was told. He wouldn't ask it again.

- -

**II.**

"Ron. There's something I need to tell you."

"Yeah, mate. Where've you been lately?"

"Well…about that." Harry was toying, in his head, with how exactly to word his confession, when he felt something sharp hit the back of his neck. With a jolt, he whipped around to see Draco Malfoy pointing his want at him from the far corner of the dining hall, near the staircase. His eyes were dark and glinting, a smirk on his face that clearly said he knew just was what going on.

"What is Malfoy-"

Immediately, Harry jerked back around to face Ron. "It's nothing. Drop it."

"That git."

There was another sharp sensation on the back of his neck, and this time it burned across his skin so harshly, Harry instinctively rubbed the spot where he'd been hexed, nervous. There was no disputing it. He knew what Draco wanted just as much as he would've known if the boy had whispered the words into his ear.

_Come to me. _

Harry felt his face burning. "I have to go," he said in a low voice, feeling Draco's eyes pierce him from across the room, and Ron's surprised ones from the other side of the table.

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, the redhead frowned. "What the bloody hell are you-"

"I have to go," he repeated, almost robotically, jumping to his feat and nearly bolting out of the hall. When he passed Draco, Harry gave him the most fleeting of looks.

_Of course I will. _

Concentrating on moving as steadily as possible, Harry's eyes were locked on his own feet. The hallway was deserted, except for the echoing sound of his own footsteps. He did not see nor hear the other boy coming up behind him, until Draco's hand slipped underneath his shirt, rubbing the small of his back in circles, and he cooed breathlessly in Harry's ear. "I want you now," he hissed, no preface or preparation. "Right here."

Harry felt himself go scarlet. "Not- not-"

"Not in the hallway, of course." Draco simpered, and pushed Harry in the direction of a nearby classroom, following close behind him. Harry stumbled to the door, fumbled with the doorknob briefly before muttering, "Alohomora," and the two boys tumbled inside.

Instantly, Draco had slammed the door shut and had Harry pinned against it, greedily kissing his face, lips smearing and teeth colliding. Harry could feel the electricity run down his spine as Draco forced their hips closer, arousals chafing, eliciting a moan from Harry's lips. Draco ran one slim finger down Harry's jawline and drew his chin upwards, so that he could bite down the nape of his neck, leaving two red-white marks in his wake. A shudder of pleasure ran through Harry's entire body. Tugging his chin down once more, Draco leered, eyes red around the edges, and wide like twin moons, a sort of panicked need staining everything he did.

They were both panting, and Draco was grinning more devilishly than ever.

"Down," He demanded in a choked voice, and Harry felt hot hands sliding down his body, pushing him to his knees. Within seconds, Draco had unzipped and discarded his pants; his throbbing erection springing free. "You know what to do," he drawled, one hand tangling fingers tightly into Harry's messy hair, who, without protest, took the Slytherin in his mouth.

Draco's eyes shuddered shut, and his head rolled backwards, slow and heavy. With his own eyes wide, Harry peered up at the pale face, realizing he had never seen him in such a state of rapture before. It was like discovering something hidden; an illicit secret. Harry found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the sight. He let Draco wind his fist tighter in his hair; let him push deeper into his mouth, and Harry drank in both the sights and sensations of his body, relishing every second of it.

Patterning his lips into an ever-quickening rhythm, he heard Draco's breath catch slightly, not once, but twice, then a third time, desperate and ragged, and knew it wasn't long before the blonde boy decided to move onto something else, something where he could physically dominate. "All right, Potter." Anxious to keep his eyes fixed on the many fascinations and contours of Draco's face, Harry knew he had to keep him otherwise occupied. "Turn-"

The command died his throat as Harry ran his tongue roughly down the length of his cock so agonizingly that it strained and twitched for more. Draco's mouth was frozen, almost comically, in a silent cry, round and wide. At his small victory, Harry let himself smile, pulling his tongue upwards now, extracting a second triumph as a small desperate noise spilled from Draco's throat, part plea, and part refusal, and Harry knew the boy hated himself for wanting this as much as he did. Everything Draco did was strained, as if the insurmountable desire visible in his body was nothing compared to what was lurking beneath the surface.

_"Don't- Tease-"_

Harry did as he was told, and once more engulfed Draco's visibly aching erection with his mouth, hurrying the speed of his lips to match the hips pushing towards him. Draco was holding onto his hair so tightly Harry felt his skull ache. The Slytherin's breath was shallow, quickening by the second, and Harry felt the cock tighten against his hot lips. Draco's hips bucked forward, a second before he came, and he moaned raggedly, a sound which echoed, bouncing off the walls and reverberating in Harry's ears a thousand times over.

For a minute, he remained there, knees quivering, eyes shut in a pained ecstasy, lips twitching with unintelligible words, as if he were praying silently. Harry memorized the image in his mind: the slight beads of sweat on his forehead, the collar rumpled and askew, the coral splotches on his pale cheeks-

Without warning, Draco's eyes flew open quickly, and he looked around the classroom in surprise, as though he did not quite know how he had gotten to this location. When his gaze caught Harry, his eyes widened, and then narrowed, something unintelligibly fiery lurking there.

Draco's lips were smooth and warm against Harry's ear as he bent over him. "What were you thinking?" he growled. "Telling that moron. You don't- don't- You don't tell _anyone. _You don't talk about this, not ever. Just _don't talk_."

And with that he was gone.

Harry collapsed backwards, lying on the floor. As he stared at the ceiling, utterly unable to move or think, his chest heaving, the taste of Draco lingering in his mouth, he wondered distantly if it had really happened at all.

- -

**III.**

"Took you long enough to get here." Draco's breath was white in the icy air as he spoke.

"Yeah, well. You waited, didn't you?"

"For nearly an hour. Let's get going." It was a midnight in November and they hadn't seen each other in weeks. Out in the woods, they knew nobody could hear or find them.

It seemed to Harry that it should be easy to pick up where they had left off last time; at this point there was hardly anything worth being embarrassed over between the two of them; nothing they hadn't done. But as soon as Draco leaned in to kiss him, Harry misjudged the distance between them, and leaned in, too. Teeth and chins collided painfully, and Draco pulled back and swore.

_What the hell was that?_

Narrowing his eyes, Draco rubbed his jaw. "Don't do that again," he hissed, although Harry did not know exactly what he had done.

Before he was able to reply, Harry found himself being seized by the shoulders and tugged close to the blonde, who did not hesitate to crush their lips together in a smoldering, suffocating lock. Both his hands slid up inside Harry's shirt; and although it was below freezing outside, he suddenly felt warmth burning in the pit of his stomach. Electric shocks ran in waves over his skin with every square inch that Draco touched. It had been too long, and Harry suddenly did not know how he had lived without it, without _him._

Harry sensed that Draco knew it too; he was holding him far too tightly. Draco fought, he struggled for the upper hand, but each forceful push and bite melted away into languid tenderness. For all his rough affection and harsh authority, something else, gentler, was peeking through from underneath.

Something was changing in the way they both moved; each touch pulled and stretched farther, each meant more. It was exhilarating in its painfully intimacy, and although Harry didn't know what barrier they'd broken, he found himself submitting willingly to the newfound force. Without thinking, he brought his hands to cup Draco's face, thumb smoothing the line of his jaw, in a gesture so intimate that Harry could hear the hitch of breath in his throat.

For a moment, Draco pulled back just slightly, and in that moment their eyes caught. It was like time had slowed to a crawl. As if the world had ceased to turn. Reason was eradicated; all Harry knew was their two bodies, pressing together, forming one more fiery star in the night.

Their faces were too close. Noses touched, lips brushed, but the air around them was suddenly too tight, too pressing. They remained in limbo, unmoving, unwilling to break eye contact, until Draco leaned to kiss him long and soft on the lips once more, and for once it was as if he were giving instead of taking. When he pulled away, he studied Harry's face with such an unsolicited desire and attention that Harry found he had to look away.

"I love you."

Draco blurted the words and instantly turned pink.

Harry felt as though his stomach had dropped through the ground. Gaping, he swallowed several times, trying to find the right words, but it seemed they did not exist.

"I- Er-"

"Fuck." Draco let go of him, avoiding Harry's eyes. "You know what? Let's- let's never talk about this. Ever again."

"Er-"

"Yes. That sounds like a good plan."

"I-"

"I'll see you." In what felt like an instant, Draco had turned away and was darting towards the castle, not once looking back.

Harry blinked at the empty field and murmured a quite, nearly unintelligible "I love you, too."

But there was no one there.

- -

**IV. **

"On your knees, Potter."

Unceremoniously, Harry felt his shins hit the cold tile of the dormitory floor. It was Christmas break, the castle was nearly empty, and they were quite alone.

Harry obeyed, stomach clenching in both anticipation and terror. From his back pocket, Draco removed and unraveled a silver cloth, the same one he had used to tie around Harry's eyes so many months ago. His stomach plummeted at the sight.

"What?" Draco sneered, his fingers suddenly quite cold and tight around one of Harry's wrists. "You thought it would be any different?" He dropped to his knees as well, and leaned in until his breath was on Harry's neck. "If you're too scared, I'll leave now. And I won't come back."

The thread made the hair on his arms stand on end, and he bit down on his lip. Summoning all the courage he had, he whispered, "You don't mean that."

Instantly, Draco drew back as if he had been slapped. He narrowed his eyes, but just as he was opening his mouth to speak, Harry ripped his arm out of his icy grip. In one swift motion, he plucked the blindfold out of Draco's hand and threw it over his shoulder and onto the floor behind him. Lunging, Draco made a move to pick it up, but Harry blocked him, grabbing both wrists in his hands. They were the mirror opposite of what they had looked like less than twenty seconds ago. Both boys were breathing hard.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Draco hissed, trying to hold his ground despite the distinct fear visible in his eyes.

"If you love me, you don't need it."

Draco stopped struggling, frozen. Harry had never seen him look so lost, but he forged on.

"You said you loved me."

"I didn't-"

"No tricks or force this time-"

"I don't-"

"Just you and me."

"I…" Draco's voice was scarcely a whisper. "I don't understand."

Harry brought a thumb to his pale face, sliding along his cheek gently. "Then let me show you." Taking Draco's hand in his, he lead him to the bed and eased him back slowly.

"I'm not-"

"Shh."

Kneeling atop him, Harry slowly began to unbutton Draco's shirt. One by one, he undid the plastic orbs, fingers ghosting over the skin underneath. Draco held his breath, watching every move the brunette made.

Chest now exposed, his lips trailed down Draco's chest and torso, and his entire pale body was quivering. With careful attention to every square inch he revealed, Harry slowly removed, piece by piece, every article of Draco's clothing, and then his own, until there they were, nude and breathing hard, eyes locked and wide with uncertainty.

_What to do now, what to do?  
_

The questions clouded his vision, making him lose his footing, and he fell forward, pinning Draco backwards to the bed. Their faces were no less than a foot away. Draco closed his eyes, as if he thought it nothing more than a dream. Harry kissed each of his eyelids, thumb sliding over an earlobe. His fingers slid down Draco's neck, and then his lips, then his tongue. Draco was trembling slightly, chest moving up and down quickly, breath short. Harry let his hands and lips speak for him, exploring the lower regions of Draco's body, tracing down the side of his stomach, the hard line of his thigh.

Draco's body, if he hadn't noticed it before, was glorious in its own pale, thin way. The ghostly shadows of ribs were visible the harder he breathed, rising and falling in time, steady. His collarbones pushed against the pale skin as if they were trying to break the surface. Draco's skin was like parchment, stretched tightly over his entire frame. Each limb was straining, his fists clinging to the sheets below him, holding on.

Harry rose onto his knees, and both of them knew what would happen next. Their eyes met and he saw an irrefutable fear there, the kind of terror usually only reserved for first dates and other horrors. Without a word, he tried to convey to words _You're safe_ as best he could with just his eyes and with a hand running down his abdomen, turning him over.

_What?_ Harry wanted to say. _You don't think I'm terrified, too? _

Using Draco's hips to steady himself, Harry's hands gripped tightly onto the jutting hipbones, aligning himself behind the blonde boy, pressing against him. It took everything Harry had to keep his entire body from trembling, both from desire and from the knowledge that he was an utter novice at this. What if he did something wrong? Something badly? What if Draco didn't want it this way? What if, what if, what if?

And suddenly, as if someone had whispered in his ear the answer, the qualms floated away like feathers in the breeze. There was a time for worrying and speculating and praying for things to be perfect, but now was not the time. It was time for action, for following through with things. He had made it this far- Scared as he was, there was no backing out now. All or nothing.

With that, he slowly pushed himself into Draco's entrance, holding his breath and holding onto Draco's body for dear life. Suddenly, the world was flipped upside-down, turning on its head in circles, spinning, dizzying. The Slytherin let out a groan that came from the pit of his stomach, which echoed throughout the room in tones Harry had never heard before.

Their bodies were like perfect machines, moving in such rhythm, such an even steady motion that Harry did not understand how such an act could be described by any other word than _natural._ It was a dance, it was a weaving, it was a scientific phenomenon being discovered and calculated for the first time. Here is how you do it, like this, like that. Their bodies knew how to bend and twist, and it occurred the Harry that the instructions were perhaps not stored in his mind, but in the depths of his heart instead. It was what he was born to do, it was meant to be, to happen in more ways than he could measure or list if he tried.

Feeling the sensation swell in the pit of his stomach, Harry wondered how he had even lived without this, how the rest of the world could live without it. Because the rest of the world would have to: It was the property of him, and of Draco; and it was theirs alone. It was a discovery for their eyes only, to be sealed away in their memories and unrevealed to the undeserving.

Like fire, like ice, like the place where the two met and exploded in a cloud of color and light; Harry felt himself trembling on the edge, his stomach flush with Draco's sweat-slick back as he patterned his thrusts faster and faster, letting the gasps in his throat spill onto Draco's shoulders as he came with a cry, mouthing senseless words of endearment into Draco's neck as the world burst into stars before his eyes.

Harry wrapped one arm around Draco's torso, and it only took the slightest of pullings and pushings to make him climax as well: A lingering thumb, a swift flick of his wrist, and a tongue rolling along the back of Draco's neck, tracing the shape of a heart there as Draco let out a desperate, needy moan, spilling onto Harry's hand; onto the sheets. The sound reverberated in the space, tickling Harry's ears, who couldn't help but smile warmly against his back; free hand carding loosely through his hair. Was anything ever so perfect? Was there ever any reason to love anyone, anything else? Was there anyone else in the universe more suited for him, Harry? There was no embarrassment, no shame, only the warm bulge of his heart in his chest, which suddenly seemed fit to burst.

"God, I love you, too."

Harry rolled off him and pulled his body close. Draco did not resist, but when he refused to look Harry in the eye, Harry gently set two fingers underneath his chin and turned it upwards. In the pale candlelight, he could see that Draco's eyes were wet with tears.

"You don't have to say anything," Harry whispered, and as the blonde boy's face cracked into a broken smile, they both knew it was true.

- -


End file.
